


Seize the Moment

by anomalousGreenhorn



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Casteism | Hemophobia (Homestuck), F/M, Holding Hands, Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Sburb/Sgrub, btw the game they're playing is capture the flag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 04:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16695415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomalousGreenhorn/pseuds/anomalousGreenhorn
Summary: ... you have a strange feeling that Megido is not fond of you.





	Seize the Moment

**Author's Note:**

> old, revamped prompt fill for 'kismesis hand-holding'. originally posted to wattpad.

Your name is Equius Zahhak, and you are hideously _bored_.

You cross one leg on top of the other and sigh. Vriska Serket — world-renowned flarper, strategist, and annoyance — blabs on and on about the game you and four others have been invited (read: forcefully evicted from hive) to play. You find you do not have the attention span to continue listening to her lecturing, and return to observing your soon-to-be-playmates.

First on the radar is, of course, Kanaya Maryam. What with her being Serket’s current matesprit, and this, furthermore, being _her_ hive, it only makes sense that she would be in your presence. Lower on the hemospectrum, yes, but enamored enough with Serket to be tolerable.

Next to her sits one you know very: your moirail, Nepeta Leijon. Her olive caste means little to you as of now, due to you somehow being roped into the pale quadrant with her. Her eagerness toward Serket unnerves you, but you digress for the sake of Nepeta’s freelance.

The circle of stupidity is completed by the lowblood sitting next to you and the one sitting next to Vriska. The only thing along with their bronze and rust blood colors that makes them separate beings in your mind is that the rustblood is wonderfully, _painfully_ beautiful.

(You’re well-aware of how l00d it is. No need to rub it in.)

For a lowblood, her stature is built like art, with shoulders broad and firm and hair that spirals and curls down to her waist, which sinks in only a tad and flares at the hips. She frowns at Serket, but it is an understandable and cute frown. Her legs, covered mostly by a dank skirt, are thick and in-shape, from what you can see, and god forbid you don’t think her muscled arms and hands aren’t an attractive trait. If only her strength could match your own— you’d consider changing her blood color for her!

Her lips are pursed and red, same as her eyes and blood. You wonder for an ephemeral moment what it would be like to kiss those lips.

(So very, _very_ l00d.)  
  
While the nameless lowblood may be the most glorious you’ve ever seen, she is still just that: a _lowblood_. You try to push thoughts of her out of your mind, restless and hasty, and place your shaking hands down on the nicely-trimmed green ground. As luck would have it, your right palm lands directly on hers.

Her hissing reaction is so punctual it takes you by surprise. This surprise results in body tension, which results in you squeezing her hand. _Hard_.

You face her, and find she is more enraged than you would have imagined. Her scowl, though still beautiful, transcends universes, and by her insistent tugging, you assume she is not pleased with this development. You are dumbstruck, though, and as a dummy might, you do not let her hand go. If anything, you grip it harder.

She is glaring spiteful, vengeful daggers into you. Her shoulders are squared and her chest is puffed out, threatening you as though you are the lowblood in this situation. In attempting to form an appropriate response, you realize it is because you are so very STRONG that she has not since moved away. You aren’t just hurting her, you’re holding her captive, albeit unintentionally.  
  
“Let go. _Now_ ,” she snaps in a harsh contralto. You, shockingly, do not let go.

“Zahhak, Megido— we’re _waiting_ ,” is what you hear Serket say from what could be a different realm. It feels like you and this girl are the only members of existence right now; that if you forget her, all will simply cease to exist.

“We’re _coming_ , Vriska,” replies the troll, now dubbed as Megido. You’ve never heard the surname before, but it is not an unpleasing one. The unique enigmaticness of it gives her the character she did not need, but deserves.

… Or maybe you’re just looking too much into it.

Now that all is said and done, you release her hand, and she flinches away. She stands up, not bothering to dust herself off, and makes way to the group without so much as a glance back.

It could simply be anxiety talking, but you have a strange feeling that Megido is not fond of you.


End file.
